


Feline Fine

by Azureshadowmoon



Category: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Cartoon)
Genre: Light Angst, kids being wholesome, kipo being a cat, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azureshadowmoon/pseuds/Azureshadowmoon
Summary: Kipo tries not to act like a cat. Keyword: tries.
Comments: 42
Kudos: 459





	1. The Problem

.

.

She isn’t aware of it at first.

It’s a timbercat feast. The second one they’ve been invited to and she likes luncheon meat but only like, a slice, and then she’s slamming on a guitar. Yumyan goes head to head with her and they’ve got a battle of notes going on between her and two cats. It's really really nice. She ends up sprawled out on a table and completely beside herself with breathless laughter.

“You’re an animal.” Wolf comments from somewhere.

That only makes Kipo laugh harder, since the song had been about bouncing baby megadogs. Bensen tries to slide her another slice of meat and a dare to stick it on the back of Molly’s head. She doesn’t do it, but she spots something over his shoulder.

“What?” He turns his head. “What is it?”

Kipo says, “Nothing.”

It’s a cardboard box.

Bensen looks at her confusedly, “You okay, Kipo?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just-“ Her gaze snaps back to the box. There’s nothing wrong with it. It even has ‘oranges’ scrawled over the side of it. She wants to check. Maybe she’s craving oranges? “I’ll be right back.”

“Um. Okay.”

She walks over. A nearby timbercat tries to get her attention but she waves them off. The box is empty which, it really should be the end of it. She wants to go back to playing while they could. Tomorrow they had to get back on the road and it’d be a real bummer if this would be her last feast for a while. Except the box and it being empty. It’s bothering her.

She looks around. Nothing nearby. A bowl? She frowns, no that wouldn’t fit. What would?

Her feet are carrying her over. It’s almost natural that she lifts herself up over the edge and plants herself comfortably inside. It’s a shame it only goes up to her waist- oh wait. Easy fix. She sits down and hugs her knees. The satisfaction is incredibly nice.

It lasts four seconds.

“Kipo, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Kipo blinks at Wolf. It’s like her brain is still playing guitar and has only just now caught up. She glances down at the box and says, “Sitting.”

Wolf squints at her, “Why?”

“Uh, why not?”

“Why in-“

A new song starts to play. Her brain falls behind again as she realizes they’re playing without her and, ugh, she needs to find her guitar right this second. She leaps out of the box onto a nearby table.

“Wuh-! Kipo, watch it!”

“Sorry Wolf! Gotta go!”

The whole ordeal is forgotten by morning.

.

.

The next incident can barely even be counted one.

They’re in the ‘hardware district’, or at least that’s what Dave says. She’s distracted by giant claw machines and huge robots with belt legs. There’s a lot to see. Almost too much as her gaze swings from the tools to the broken machines and back over to empty shelves.

“What do you think they made here?” She asks.

Wolf huffs beside her, “Who cares? It didn’t last long anyway.”

“Au contrail.” Dave says from the shelf. “That’s german for ‘not exactly’.”

“What’s german?”

“Sounds gross.”

“Anyway.” Dave shoots them a dark look. “This is obviously a, uh, wood store. Where they sell wood.” He pats the shelf to justify this.

Kipo makes an ‘oh’ noise. She opens her mouth to ask more. Except Bensen appears between them with an excited yell.

“Guys, guys I found-“

Kipo shrieks. She can feel her shoulders hike up to her ears and her fingers stick themselves to her hips angrily. Her lip curls and she gives a hiss before bolting off in the opposite direction. She barely hears Dave cry ‘dude, did you just scare Kipo’ and Bensen saying ‘did she just hiss at me?’

This might be a problem.

.

.

She’s been ignoring it because it doesn’t happen too often. And no one has really noticed or at least, they haven’t confronted her about it. It’s fine. She can manage it. The only thing that’s obvious about it is moonlit nights when her eyes are silted and more purple then ever.

And, of course, battles that get out of hand.

She tried to prevent it. The pigeon mutes were a little bent out of shape about twinbeak and she couldn’t say she _didn’t_ fling it into a mountain of trash. Besides, honesty can work out sometimes!

Not this time. The pigeons mean business. Luckily, Wolf knew exactly how to counter them.

“Rocks.” She said. “Throw lots of rocks. They’ll eat them up and it’ll weigh them down. We can make our escape then.”

“Got it!” Kipo grinned. No jaguar required. Just good ol’ fashioned Kipo throwin’ arms.

The woods had a whole lot more roots and grass then rock, but that just gave them a lot more cover to work with. Bensen was doing great with his berry traps and Wolf was scaling the trees to get better shots at the birds with stalky. Kipo glanced at the ground and Mandu looked up.

She held up a rock deviously, “Bet I can throw mine farther.”

The pig squealed.

She manages to peg four before a yelp from above catches her ear. It’s Wolf, her brain says, and her eyes are frantically scanning the canopy. There, dangling from the talons of a pigeon, her friend. Wolf is giving a great fight, but stalky is on the forest floor and the pigeon is lifting off higher and higher and-

“Kipo!” Bensen cries. “I’ll knock it down! Get Wolf!”

She’s already tearing after the pigeon mute. There’s the tickling sensation of fur brushing her ankles as her surroundings start to blur. She’s fast, fast enough to catch up to the soaring mute. There’s a _pop_ as a soda can nails it in the face and Wolf screams, falling and falling and-

-into Kipo’s arms.

“Phew!” The half-mute almost collapses with relief. “That was way too close.”

Wolf shakily stepped out of her arms, “You’re telling me. Anyone seen stalky?”

“Over here!” Dave yells from nearby.

Kipo laughs, relieved at the sight of retreating pigeons and her unharmed family. Wolf grins at her knowingly, a tad bashful, and holds her hand up. In her mind, Kipo knows she should do something with her hand. A high five sounds great. But she really likes seeing Wolf on the ground, happy and alive, and she’s leaning forward.

There’s a blissful moment where all she can feel is Wolf’s hand through her hair and, gosh. Her chest is warm and her thoughts cloudy with _I’m happy I met you._ The hand is frozen and unmoving. It’s what wakes her from her daze, blinking blearily into wide eyes.

Wolf stares.

The others are staring.

Everyone. Staring. 

“Uh.” Kipo says. She can feel sweat on her neck and internally screams.

“Kipo, what-“

She steps back fast. Her shoulders feel tense and her legs too stiff. She tires to laugh but it sounds hoarse, “Sorry, totally. Uh. Misinterpreted that. Silly me. My mistake! Well! Let’s move on gang!”

She marches forward. After a moment, the rest follow. She wants that to be the end of it, but their gazes don’t stop watching her so heavily till almost two days later.

.

.

It reaches a breaking point.

Friendly mutes sometimes aren’t nice mutes. Kipo learns this while attending the peacock pansy wedding party. For once, it was Bensen the peacock mutes were enamored with and were excited to welcome the dj to the wedding. His only condition was the rest of them were able to attend as well. Wolf didn’t look happy, but the others were having fun and Kipo. Well.

She can’t stop looking at it.

It’s a small silver chalice. It’s sitting next to the altar, not on it. It’s on a little end table and maybe sort of cute? She’s not sure. Squinting at it doesn’t help. According to the priestly peacock, it’s supposed to be the holy grail and only the brides bride would get to drink it. Or something.

Kipo sniffed it.

Water, her brain said. Well duh. Does holy water smell different then normal water? And what makes it holy? Does the water have holes? She leans to the other side of the table to get another angle on it. Maybe there was a secret code?

“Kipo?” It’s Bensen and he looks amused. “What are you doing?”

“Euh.” She answers with a frown. Words are meaningless in the face of discovery.

Bensen crosses his arms, “Did you want to grab something from the snack bar? Might be our last chance for a while.”

Food did sound good. It was moderately tempting too. The chalice was too distracting though and she waved him off. He didn’t get a chance to leave as the bells started to play and the brides appeared. It was a very pretty event. Feathers and decorations and some suspicious bones but it was all very sweet. The peacock mutes all clapped excitedly to heartfelt vows. The brides were beautiful too.

Kipo smiled. This was just too cool.

_Crash._

The hairs on her neck stood up. She blinks widely at the audience, unsure what she just heard. Every peacock in the room is gaping at her and she can hear Bensen beside her quietly scream. She glances down. Her arm extended out in an almost casual swipe.

The chalice was in pieces at her feet.

“Oh.” The realization has her toes curling and her stomach twisting. “Ohhh, that was. Uh. Big mistake. I’ll. Get you. Another one?”

The brides puff up angrily. With impeccable calm, the priest says, “Eat the humans.”

It takes four hours to shake the procession. It takes another hour to bear through Wolf’s angry rant and Bensen still quietly screaming. Dave was and is still laughing by the time things settle down. But Kipo doesn’t feel settled, as they rest around the campfire. Everything about her is unsettled.

She raises her hand up to the stars and frowns at the fur on her wrist. It’s fading away bit by bit, but it’s there. She tiredly lets it fall onto her face.

This, she thinks, is a very big problem.


	2. The Plan

.

.

The timbercat hold was alive with activity. Scents of soups and pastries followed rushing cats. A few were striking up music in a corner. Many more were gathered around tables enjoying frothy mugs and food. Hearty laughter barely concealed the sound of the front door opening and footsteps pushing their way through the crowd.

“Excuse me, pardon me- oh, oops, sorry about that- if you could just-“

Kipo gasped as she broke free. She scanned the crowd, not letting herself a moment to catch her breath. Her eye caught white fur and bolted in its direction.

“Molly! Molly, hey, I need your help!”

The cat turned her head, blinking in surprise. In her arms was a half-strung guitar. It made Kipo falter and zero in on the instrument. Behind Molly, two other timbercats were using their claws to mold axe shaped guitars.

“Oh, Kipo.” Molly smirked. “You’re just in time. Yumyan commissioned our finest tree scratchers for a brand-new axe. Want in on the competition? Winner gets the honor of Yumyan wielding their creation for glorious combat.”

Woah that was so cool- No, focus. Kipo shook her head, wiping the stars from her eyes.

“Uh, actually, Molly I was hoping to-“

Molly hefted the beaten instrument forward, “In fact, why don’t you try this one? It’s a little small, but it’s just your size.”

Kipo fumbled with the guitar- _it’s actually really heavy oh no-_ and huffed. She curiously glanced down, examining the damage and the torn strings. It looked like a timbercat mistake. Ordinarily, the idea of salvaging a timbercat guitar would be just the carrot on a stick to grab Kipo’s attention. But this was serious business. She bit her lip and withheld the cry of frustration.

“Gee, thank you, um, but Molly, seriously, there’s something I really, really-“

Moly’s head snapped back to the cats, “Who said you could stop? Yumyan wants a new axe two moons from now. We don’t have time to play with sticks.”

A few grumbles followed. Molly crossed her arms with a frown, before looking down at a downtrodden Kipo.

“Oh, that’s right. You came here for something, didn't ya?”

Kipo perked up, “Yes, actually! I need your help, Molly. It’s urgent.”

“Urgent?” Molly parroted. “Well. Let’s hear it.”

Ten minutes later, Kipo restlessly paced outside in front of Moly. The timber cat leaned her back against a tree and stared the girl down with visible confusion.

“You’re telling me,” Molly said slowly, “that you’re a half-mute losing control of your other half and you’re looking for ways to prevent showing you’re a half-mute?”

Kipo gripped her head, “Yes! I’ve only known I could do these things a week ago, maybe. I don’t know. Molly I ruined a wedding!”

“Good job.” Molly said passively. “I really don’t see what the problem is here.”

Kipo groaned and miserably sunk to the ground. She disappeared into a bush, only a foot viable in the moonlight.

“I had to sneak off from the others or they’d be all like ‘Kipo! Where ya going?’ and I’d have to _lie!_ ” The bush laments. “Not to mention how they’ve been stepping on eggshells around me. It’s like they think I’m going to freak out or something!”

“You’re freaking out.” Molly pointed out.

Kipo popped her head up to scowl fiercely, “I’m not! I’m so _not_ freaking out! Why would I freak out when I’m turning into a _cat!_ ”

She disappeared back into the bush. Molly blinked neutrally.

“I think you need to take a day off.”

“A day off from what?” The bush grumbled.

The timbercat hummed thoughtfully, “Try thinking of places where you _won’t_ act like a cat. Relax a bit. But if you want my honest advice, just talk to your friends.”

Kipo peered out, eyes shining hopefully, “A place to relax?”

“Did you hear that second part?”

“Molly, you’re right!” The half-mute stumbled out of the bush with a grin. “I need somewhere to clear my head, get all these fuzzy thoughts out!”

“Well-“

“Thanks so much!” Kipo leapt forward for a brief hug before prancing back as quick as possible, “Have fun with those commissions! Bye bye!”

Molly stared dryly as the girl ran into the trees.

.

.

Kipo watched the ceiling.

Wolf has been a little miffed with her. _There are real stars outside you know_ being tossed over her shoulder. The others were contently sleeping up on the roof, cradled by the night and the moon. Kipo slept inside the building. She’d begun phase one of her plan and it involved trying to find her comfort zone. Fake constellations were drawn onto the ceiling in an almost perfect replica of the ones in her old house.

It left a somber feeling gripping her chest. She frowned. Memories were tugging at her head in a painful way and she could almost imagine her dad on the floor beside her, pointing up at them and saying ‘that one is yours Kipo’.

It hurt. She sighed.

“Alright. Spill.”

Kipo jumped in surprise, her head whipping to the window. Wolf perched there, eyeing her on the floor shrewdly.

“You’ve been acting weird all day. What gives?”

Kipo exhaled in relief “You scared me. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Don’t avoid the question. You haven’t been sleeping either.”

Kipo winced. This was bad. Of all the ways to confront this issue, she really hoped this wouldn’t be it. She desperately kept her heart from spiraling out of her throat and managed a shaky grin.

“I’m just, worried.” She admitted. It wasn’t a lie. “About my dad.”

Wolf softened. She looked guilty for a moment before her face fell, “You wanna talk about it?”

And there it was. A perfect opening. All Kipo had to say was, ‘yeah my mutation makes me act like a cat funny haha why aren’t you laughing’ and all the horrible scenarios would follow. All of which involved Wolf looking at her with disgust and saying ‘you promised you weren’t one of them’. And she wasn’t. She _wasn’t._

“No.” She lied. “I think I’d rather just. Relax.”

Wolf nodded. Hesitated. “Want some company?”

Kipo felt the grin turn genuine on her lips, “Sure.”

A few minutes later, the others joined her underneath her fake stars. Mandu curled up on her stomach. Bensen sprawled himself to her left side, his arm thrown starfish over her neck as he snoozed. Wolf has claimed her legs, curled up as defensively as possible and using her knee as a cushion. A buzz nearby told her Dave was content to use Bensen’s backpack as a tent.

It was warm and tender. She stared at the fake stars and sighed, feeling soft and comfortable. The memories in her head didn’t feel too painful. Her dads voice was soothing as it told her about Aries and stories about stars lulled her into a drowsy sleep. It’s nice, being cuddled around her favorite people. It’s really really-

_Brrrrrr-_

Bensen snorted, blinking at her blearily. His nose wrinkled and he opened his mouth with a jaw cracking yawn. Kipo was frozen, her armsmoving shaking at her sides.

“Kipo? Waz tha-”

Mandu made a sleepy noise on her stomach but didn’t wake. It wasn’t bothersome enough to wake up Wolf, but it was vibrating through her _chest_ and she couldn’t make it _stop-_

“I’m dying.” She squeaks. Her eyes felt heavy and wet. “I’m going to die.”

He stared at her sleepily. “Huh.”

A pause.

Bensen lifts his arm up to wipe at his face. Another yawn gets muffled into his sleeve before its thrown back around Kipo. She freezes, barely able to breath at the strange sensation in her chest. He mumbles something, his cap poking her cheek.

“Bensen?” She tries. “Is this bad?”

“Go to sleep, Kipo.”

His breath evens out. Kipo can’t calm her heart, can’t stop the noise in her chest, and really can’t stop the few tears that run down her cheeks. It’s unfair and frustrating and scary. It’s hitting closer than ever, in this safe spot, that she’s changing. She knows she’s half-mute and, it comes with so many perks! And more then anything, she likes the thought of being accepted and knowing she’s part of two worlds.

But all the explanation’s followed her dad and he’s not here, not here to gently explain why she was this way. There’s no book to read, no answers from other mutes-

Wait. No, that’s not right. She hasn’t tried everything, she realizes. There are other mutes. Surely, she can’t be the only anomaly in two hundred years?

The thought makes her sick. She barely gets any sleep that night.

.

.

Cactus town is where she starts phase 2.

It’s easy enough to give the others the slip as they find a music shop to camp out at. The snakes toss lazy greetings to them and don’t move from their sunbathing rooftops. She spots a familiar black scaled snake and climbs her way to join Cotton.

“What’s happening, little rocker?” The snake purrs. “Come to catch some rays?”

Camille makes a lazy noise from the other side of the roof, “Hey.”

Kipo smiles. She settles down beside the snake with a long sigh and, collapses. Sprawls herself out on the roof and _groans._ Cotton moves her head over her body to peer down at the half-mute.

“Heavy noises, man. Got some words to go with that?”

“I’m okay.” Kipo admits, tossing an arm over her eyes to block the sun. “I’m, well, I’m going to be okay once I figure out how to stop _acting like a cat._ ”

Camille hisses. Cotton blinks slowly.

“Sounds terminal.” She notes airily. “Do you want us to put you out of your misery?”

“We’d be totally cool with that.”

Kipo manages a meek laugh, “It’s not. So bad? Okay, it’s been driving me crazy and sort of maybe freaking me out _but_ I’m confident I can fix this.”

The sound of rocks moving and scales brushing concrete and Camille curls beside her, squinting down at her, “Rock on that optimism. You got this.”

Kipo whimpers.

Cotton says, “I don’t think she has this.”

“It’s-!” Kipo sits up, frustrating building. “It’s not even my fault! Scarlemagne kidnapped my dad before he could even explain _why_ I’m half-mute and now I’m _purring_ and _ruining weddings-_ “

“Woah, woah.” Camille rests her head on top of Kipo’s drowsily. “Cool it man.”

“Yeah. Start from the beginning.”

Ten minutes later, Kipo lays on a roof with two giant snakes curled around her. Camille’s head is on her legs and she’s almost certain the snake is asleep, and Cotton’s head was right beside hers, one visible eye blinking sleepily at her.

“Sounds rough.” Is all she says.

Kipo groans. If her arms weren’t trapped, she’d have them in her hair. It was a little grounding to have the two mutes curled around her. The only excuse for such had been Camille’s lazy ‘warm blooded man’. She closes her eyes and the spots dancing behind her eyes almost mock her.

“I just.” She exhales. “Do you have any advice?”

“If I started meowing and purring,” Camille’s mumbled from her toes, “I’d probably die on the spot.”

“That’s the right of it.”

Kipo starts to regret asking. But Cotton is sighing, long and tired.

“The way I see it, little rocker, you’ve got a lot of negativity in your head right now. Take a ride. Jam it up in a parking lot. Really helps with the vibes.”

She huffs, “That’s what Molly said…”

Camille says, “Make a song, dude.”

That grabs her attention. She peers down at the orange snake who doesn’t even look like she’s awake to keep up with the conversation. But Kipo is desperate and she loves music.

“A song?”

“Yeah.” The snake yawns. “Put those feelings in it. Knock some heads.”

“It’d be totally radical.”

“That…” She breathes and can’t help the hopeful smile, “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. And my hands will be occupied. I won’t knock anything over!”

Cotton snickers, “Oh man, I’d have loved to see those dumb birds.”

“Our guitarist is so metal.”

“Thanks guys.” She contently sits back, knowing it’d be awhile before the snakes went inside to get warm. “I needed this.”

“Anytime, dude.”

.

.

The next morning, she grabs Molly’s guitar and gets to work.

.

.


	3. The Song

.

.

_“In my heart I know, we’ll always be-“_

“Ew.”

Kipo slapped her hand onto her guitar strings. An angry twitch of her jaw followed as she turned to the mute sitting next to her. Jamack raised an eyebrow back at her, a can of soda halfway raised to his lips.

“What? You’re really going with that?”

“Can you at least _listen_ to it first?”

The frog shrugged. He leaned his free hand back on the flat billboard they were lounging on. The sun was pleasantly warm, with just a little breeze to keep them cool. It would have been a nice day for travel if she hadn’t told the others she had ‘stomach cramps’. Lying did not feel good, but at this point the idea of singing a terrible song made her stomach recoil. Kipo kicked her feet and frowned down at ground far below.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Uh.” Jamack sat up. “It’s not _bad,_ but I’ll call you if I need something to put me to sleep.”

Kipo groaned and fell onto her back. “This is hopeless.”

Again, Jamack shrugged. He took a sip of soda and commented, “Hey when you go back to them, ask Bensen if he’s got any more of these.”

“I’m never going back.” Kipo pitifully turned her head into the billboard. “I’m going to live here forever.”

Nearby, the dragonfly buzzed sympathetically.

“Now you’re being dramatic.” Jamack huffed. “Didn’t that wolf girl say she’s over it? Or did I misread everything that happened.”

Kipo morosely plucked at her guitar strings, “Wolf trusts me. I just don’t trust myself.”

Jamack slowly blinked, “…with what?”

“Mutism! Mutiny! The age of mutes!” Kipo sat forward. “I don’t know the first thing about being a mute!”

“Uh. Technically you’re not a mute.”

“Then I don’t know the first thing about being human!” She fell back again, “That’s it. This is me, Kipo Oak, forever alone.”

“I thought teenagers were supposed to be happy.” Kamack took a noisy sip of soda. “Anyway. I still think you’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

The half-mute glowered at him, “I could make fun of your tie.”

“Don’t do that.”

“See! You would get offended if your tie were brought up! It’s the same with this, this _thing_ going on with me.”

“Now there. Right there.” He gestured to her. “That’s your problem. You’re calling it a thing.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She paused and looked at her guitar, “You’re right, I should have gone with the sax.”

Jamack sighed. He leaned over and plucked the instrument from Kipo’s hands. The guitar itself was crudely cut and sawed off in awkward angles, but somehow managed to look like an axe with one deformed end. He gave it an unimpressed snort.

“You spent all week on this?”

“I’m not good at this stuff.” She drops her head into her band aid covered hands. “My dad would have made a better one then me.”

He winces and carefully sets the guitar between them, “Uh. Yeah. How’s the search going by the way?”

“I got mauled by a flamingo.”

“That bad?”

Kipo sighs.

“Look.” Jamack awkwardly pat her on the back. “Things may look bleak now, but I’m sure it’ll get better. You found your dad once. You can do it again.”

She manages a smile at that, “Thanks Jamack.”

“And this transforming business?” He crosses his arms. “Just speak your mind. Don’t beat around the bush. Trying to fix your problem by avoiding it, well, from my experience it doesn’t go very well.”

“Right.” She stands and cracks her neck, “I think I got it this time. Maybe.”

“Well go on.” He grins and hands her the guitar. “Show me what you got.”

.

.

“Hey, guys?”

“Yeah Kipo?” Bensen turned his head over his shoulder and paused at the expression on her face, “What’s up?”

She shuffled her feet. The concrete road felt hot under her sneakers. Her shoelaces were loose and, would it be weird to tie them right now? In the middle of a highway with her weird, scratched up cat guitar hanging off her back? Her friends were still looking at her.

Wolf sighs and stalky droops with the motion, “What is it now?”

“Oh.” Kipo exhales. “It’s nothing.”

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe she could sing to Mandu first and get her opinion and it will be great. Maybe. She can withstand a few more incredulous questions about her guitar. The excuse that it was now her weapon of choice was solid.

They are still staring.

“Uh.” She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m just. Warm?”

“It is pretty hot out.” Dave notes. “Hey, it’s almost hot enough to bake my eggs.”

That distracts Bensen, “Dude gross.”

“What? I like hardboiled.”

Wolf is still staring. It’s not making Kipo nervous. Not at all. She’s completely calm.

Wolf says, “Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not!”

Great. She was too loud. Now everyone was staring at her again. She sighs, deflating and any escape plans leaving with it. She could not put this off. Not when they were looking at her like _that,_ concerned and worried.

“I need to tell you guys something.” She starts strongly, then falters. “Just, I don’t know how to put it into words.”

Wolf frowns, “You could just say it.”

“We won’t judge.” Dave pipes up.

Bensen nods.

The warmth in her chest starts that tingling sensation, the only warning she’s gonna get before she starts straight up _purring_ in the middle of a highway. And, okay, no. She wasn’t going to panic, she’s taking a deep breathe and she’s _not panicking._

“Kipo?” Bensen is closer, “You okay?”

She’s totally panicking.

“Guys, I-“ Her voice breaks and she fights down the whimper, “I can’t put it into words and, I wish I could _talk_ about it but, I’m scared out of my mind here.”

“Okay.” Wolf stops in front of her, understanding and calm. “We’re listening.”

Dave says, “How we gonna know what’s wrong if you don’t show us?”

Kipo runs a hand through her hair. “I _can’t_. That wouldn’t be the point and, I’m just gonna ruin it. If I even say ‘meow’ I’m gonna lose it- Oh great, now I’m crying.”

“Okay, okay!” Bensen waves his arms. He’s not touching her, but he’s hovering close as if he wants to. “Easy, Kipo. Just. Do what you have to do.”

“Okay.” She breathes. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Wolf echoes and they’re watching her carefully.

She takes off her guitar. Tests its weight, stares at its flaws. She feels raw, rubbed too harshly with sandpaper, roughed up in a way that hasn’t been harmed. It’s disorienting. There’s eyes on her and she feels it. She can feel every emotion bared like an open wound and shudders.

“This is the only way I know how.” She whispers.

And starts to play.

-

_You’ve been losing sleep_

_Somewhere between the sky and the sea_

_-_

“Yeehaw!” Yumyan jumps from one table to another, turning a fanged grin to Kipo, “Add some high notes, right there! Make it stand out strong!”

“Make it loud!” Another cat cries.

Kipo purses her lips thoughtfully, “I want it to be powerful, but I don’t want it to be strong. That’s not how I feel.”

“Well.” Molly rests a paw on her shoulder. “You’re not gonna find out unless you play it. Let’s hear it, kiddo.”

Kipo smiles.

-

_And I’ve been better_

_And that’s okay_

_That’s just me_

-

Cotton makes a long considering noise.

“Bad?” Kipo guesses, self-conscious.

“Not bad.” Cotton says. “A song isn’t a song without words, ya know?”

“But I sang?”

Camille says from her feet, “Big words. Important words. Screaming is pretty rad but, think of the migraine.”

“Let it flow.” Cotton adds.

Kipo strums a few cords. She frowns, her knee shaking with anticipation. Her fingers write the notes in her head and they change frequently, to something nicer and more fitting. It _keeps_ changing and makes her anxious.

She bites her lip, “What if it’s not good?”

“Then make it good.” Cotton smirks. “You can’t tune a guitar without playing the strings.”

-

_And I like when between us_

_I see no walls_

_-_

The fitness racoons are all wildly cheering. It’s sort of embarrassing, because the song isn’t anything to work out too. It’s slow and soft and gentle and totally embarrassing her.

Her fingers keep fumbling and messing up the notes. Her words get caught in her throat and she almost gives up halfway through. But the racoons don’t stop cheering, and she doesn’t stop singing.

-

_I can be myself_

_And You can smile free_

_-_

Jamack hums.

Kipo waits silently. Her fingers hurt. It’s an ache that comes with spending eight hours whittling at a piece of wood, with staring desolately at a growing mistake. It’s late-night staring at the moon and wondering if she’s was doing the right thing. It manifests itself into a guitar, in her lap, the last note ringing in her ears.

“I like it.” He says.

Kipo shyly smiles, “Really?”

“It’s nice.” He ruffles her hair. “When I hear it, I think ‘that’s Kipo’s song’. Pretty fitting.”

“Thanks. I worked hard on it.”

He looks at the band aids on her fingers and says, “It paid off.”

-

_But I get so caught up_

_I’m blind_

_I can’t see_

-

“It’s still a work in progress.” Kipo admits. “I dunno if I’ll even sing it.”

The monkey megamute coos from it’s perch. She’s only got a few minutes before it’s collar goes off and she has to find somewhere to hide, but it’s something. She feels braver with an audience that stares at her like she just stole the moon. She feels like anything she sings is magical.

“I’ll try again.” She decides. It makes a noise of interest and she smiles. “Tell me what you think.”

-

_My words have meaning_

_I know they do_

_When I’m with you_

-

“Dad?”

“Yeah? What is it, sweetheart?”

“I have something I want to show you.”

-

_Something’s going on and it feels brand new_

_It’s wild and weird and not always happy_

_But we’ve never been that type of fancy_

-

Kipo blinks awake.

There’s the telltale sting behind her eyelids, the pressure on her chest, the crushing _ache_ as her dreams wisp away. It takes her dad with it, his smile and his songs and his face. Wolf yawns from her side, not awake but disturbed. They somehow ended up in a pile again. And she can feel the horrible rumble in her chest. Again.

Except Bensen is mumbling into her elbow, “Wha’s goin on?”

“Nightmare.” She says. It’s not wrong.

He pats her elbow and says, “We’ve got you.” And he kind of snores halfway through it.

-

_And I’m glad I’m me_

_And I’m glad you’re you_

_I hope you know what saying ‘thanks Kipo’ can do_

-

“Woah, what’s that?”

Kipo grins and hefts up the half-finished guitar, “Molly gave me one of the timbercat guitars they had. Pretty cool huh?”

Bensen crouches beside her and plucks at one of the strings, “It’s awesome. You gonna start playing timbercat songs on the road?”

“Please don’t.” Wolf says.

“No, no.” Kipo smiles, softer and weird and with feelings that haven’t caught up to her yet. “I’m saving it for something special.”

“Oh.” Dave nods. “A mystery guitar.”

“Shut up Dave.”

“Wolf, one of these days I’m gonna fart and it’ll make you laugh. Just wait.”

“I might actually squash you.”

Kipo discreetly muffles a laugh behind her hand. Bensen doesn’t even bother and almost flatlines on the road.

-

_I just want you to know_

_I’m feelin fine_

_With one big shaky breath_

_I’m feline_

-

Ratland is hardly the best place to practice. It’s too loud and the noise of other mutes drowns out everything. But it’s what she wants to hear. She plays the notes she knows and sings the lyrics and the rats on her boat nod along. She doesn’t recognize them, which is nice. She can barely hear herself, which is even better.

She feels less special. Less like a weird half-mute whose dad was kidnapped by a manic. It grounds her.

“You have a lovely voice.” One of the rats comments.

It almost makes her cry.

-

_It’s wild and weird and not always happy_

_But if it’s with you_

_I’m feelin fine_

-

Wolf is awkward. It’s endearing and has Kipo’s chest doing funny things that make her really wish cats didn’t exist for a moment. Because it’s their birthday, their shared wonderful day, and she was absolutely not going to _purr._ Absolutely not.

“I got you a rock.” Wolf says.

Kipo almost dies on the spot. Instead, she says, “What?”

The rock in question is small in Wolf’s hand. Purple and blue and clear as glass and different. That is definitely a mineral. Her brain would tell her all the information she would need to know about it, if her first instinct hadn’t been to immediately bat it out of Wolf’s hand. It clattered to the floor.

Wolf stared.

“It’s pretty.” Kipo’s mouth is moving faster then her brain and she keeps rattling on, “I like it a lot! Thank you!”

“But you just-“

“Tested it’s strength! Wow!” She picks it up and hopes this precious gift didn’t get hurt. She stuffs it into her pocket just in case. “I love it Wolf! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Wolf said slowly. “You can say if you don’t like it, Kipo.”

“I really like it.”

“…okay.” She relaxes, expression softening. “I’m glad.”

-

_What I’m trying to ask_

_From a burrow girl to her surface family_

_I’m okay_

_I’m scared_

_I’m fine_

_Do you mind at all this terrible feline?_

_-_

Kipo exhaled.

It felt like a burden rolled off her shoulders. The clamor of thoughts and anxiety was finally out, gone, _there it was._ The words were out there. The song was sung. It felt good.

Her friends were staring.

“Hey, uh.” She shifted on her feet. Too nervous. The anxiety was roaring back and it was making her skin prickle. “This is the part where you guys say something? Please?”

They don’t even blink. Thick silence weighs heavily between them. There’s emotions scattered across their faces, too quick for Kipo to catch, too fast for her to understand. It makes her worry.

And then Bensen says, “ _Dude.”_

“Kipo!”

She lets out a _ough_ as two bodies collide with her. Her vison topples upward and the vast blue sky takes up all she can see. Until Wolf is knocking her forehead against hers.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I didn’t-“ Her voice breaks and she realizes she’s crying. “I was scared.”

“So were we.” Bensen mumbles into her shoulder. “We thought you were scared and didn’t want to spook you.”

“You knew?”

Wolf sniffles, “The wedding. The purring? It’s hard to miss.”

Kipo winces. Her mouth tastes like acid and she thinks she might be sick. But her friends are here, hugging her, and nothing catastrophic has happened yet. Tentatively, she winds her arms around them.

“Guys?” She breathes, too afraid to raise her voice above a whisper. “Is this okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Bensen reaches up and ruffles her hair. “You’re still Kipo.”

She sobs.

Wolf sits up enough to pat Kipo’s shoulder, and says softly, “I think we broke your guitar though?”

“That’s fine.” She babbles, wiping her eyes with her arm and gasping words, “It’s fine, I’m fine. It was just. It was for a special occasion. That’s all.”

“Thanks Kipo.” Bensen helps her to her feet. He reaches up and, suddenly, his cap is on her head. It’s an awkward fit with her ponytail, but it only makes her cry harder. She reaches up and tugs the bill down to hide her face. “Seriously. This was pretty cool.”

Wolf peers up at her, or at least the blur that looks like Wolf. It’s hard to see through tears. “Kipo?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t have to be.” She’s drawn into another hug and almost falls down again, overwhelmed and _warm._ “You can still be Kipo and not be fine.”

“I thought it was indigestion.” Dave says from somewhere.

Kipo snorts and then laughs and then Wolf is laughing. All three of them lean on each other, barely standing upright through breathless laughter. They almost manage to get it back together, until Bensen cracks and they’re wheezing from laughing so hard. It’s Kipo who draws them in for a hug, a real hug that’s tight and full of _I’m never letting go._

“I love you guys.” She says.

“We love you more Kipo.”

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for being patient. onward to season two!


End file.
